In a single moment, our celestial chariot, driven by the wind, soared swiftly through the skies and soon arrived in an enchanting land. There, before our eyes, unfolded the splendid Nandana grove, its air perfumed and its shade cast by the divine Parijata trees. Nearby stood a majestic four-tusked elephant, and groups of radiant Apsaras—Menaka among them—gathered joyfully. These celestial maidens played in many delightful ways, their laughter mingling with melodious singing and graceful dancing. All around, hundreds of Gandharvas, as well as Yakshas and Vidyadharas, joined in the festivities, filling the Mandara garden with music and delight. In their midst, we beheld mighty Indra, the lord of the gods, seated with his consort Paulomi. Our wonder grew as we gazed upon that heavenly realm, where the lord of the waters, Kubera, Yama, Surya, and Agni were also present. The assembly of gods was a sight of awe and marvel, and just then, the king emerged from that resplendent city, unshakable and radiant, his army arrayed behind him like the king of the gods himself. As we watched from our chariot, it moved onward with undiminished speed. Soon, we reached the divine world of Brahma, venerated by all the gods. There, upon seeing Brahma, both Hara and Keshava were filled with astonishment. In that august assembly, the Vedas appeared in their true forms, accompanied by their branches, and alongside them were the oceans, rivers, mountains, serpents, and nagas—all present in their essence. Then, the four-faced Brahma turned to me and asked, “Who is this eternal Brahma?” Humbled, I replied, “I do not know the lord and master of creation.” Seeking clarity, I wondered aloud, “Who am I? Who is he? What is the cause of this confusion, O lords?” At that very instant, our aerial chariot, swift as the mind itself, began to tremble. In a flash, we found ourselves at the summit of Kailasa, the beautiful abode attended by hosts of yakshas, nestled in a delightful grove of mandara trees, where peacocks and cuckoos called joyfully. The air resonated with the pleasing sounds of veenas and drums, bringing joy and auspiciousness. As soon as the chariot arrived, it halted at that blessed place. There emerged the blessed Shambhu, riding his bull—three-eyed, five-faced, and ten-armed, adorned with the crescent moon upon his head. He was clad in a tiger skin, with an elephant hide draped as his upper garment. At his heels stood his two heroic sons—one with the face of an elephant, the other with six faces—radiant and powerful. Together, Shiva and his sons advanced, shining brilliantly, accompanied by all his attendants led by Nandi and the great hosts of ganas. Uttering cries of victory, they proceeded behind Shiva. Beholding that other form of Shankara, O Narada, we were all struck with wonder. Yet, filled with doubt by the presence of the Mothers, I remained there, O sage. Then, in another swift moment, the chariot sped away from that mountain peak, as fast as the wind. We soon arrived at the abode of Vaikuntha, the dwelling of the beloved of Rama. There, my son, I beheld a splendor beyond imagination. Vishnu himself was amazed at the sight of that supreme city; Hari, the lotus-eyed one, advanced to the forefront of the mansion. He shone with the hue of the flax flower, clothed in yellow garments, four-armed, seated upon the king of birds, and adorned with divine ornaments. At that moment, the lovely Lakshmi fanned him with auspicious fans. Seeing that eternal Vishnu, we were all filled with awe. Gazing at one another in silent wonder, we stood upon that excellent seat. Then, suddenly, the chariot once again sped away, swift as the wind. Our journey brought us to the ocean of nectar, filled with sweet water and great waves, teeming with myriad aquatic beings and adorned with ever-moving waves. The shores were exceedingly beautiful, lined with mandara, parijata, and other celestial trees. There were various seats and wondrous decorations everywhere. Garlands of pearls and other precious garlands adorned the area, while aśoka, bakula, kurubaka, and other trees added to the charm. Gentle ketakī and campaka trees surrounded us, their branches alive with the calls of cuckoos and pervaded by divine fragrances. The air was enlivened by the humming of bees, making the place most wondrous to behold. On that island stood a charming couch shaped like Śiva, exquisitely inlaid with jewels and adorned with many kinds of precious stones. From afar, we saw it shining among the celestial palaces, covered with fine coverings and radiating the colors of a rainbow. Upon that excellent couch sat a most beautiful lady. She wore red garlands and garments, was anointed with red fragrances, her eyes deep and red, her form radiant as a flash of lightning. Her face was beautiful, her lips and teeth shining red, her splendor surpassing millions of Lakṣmīs, her whole form glowing like the orb of the sun. In her hands she held the noose, the goad, and the boons of desire. She was Śrī Bhuvaneśvarī, never before seen, adorned with a gentle smile and supremely lovely. Flocks of birds, devoted to reciting the hrīṃ mantra, attended her. She was reddish in hue, the very embodiment of compassion, a maiden in the bloom of youth. She was adorned with every ornament of beauty, her lotus face graced by a gentle smile, her full, uplifted breasts surpassing the buds of lotuses. Her form glittered with ornaments set with many kinds of gems, golden armlets, bracelets, and a crown. Her lotus face was adorned with golden earrings shaped like the Śrīcakra. She was known as Hṛllekhā Bhuvaneśī, ever devoted to the recitation of her names, always praised by her circle of companions. Bhuvaneśī, the great goddess, was surrounded by celestial maidens such as Hṛllekhā and others, and encircled by goddesses like Anaṅgakusumā. She was seated at the very center of a hexagon, upon the king of yantras, radiant and divine.